


faith/faithless

by cosmicpoet



Series: komahina week 2018 [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: (kind of), Angst, Character Study, Kamukura project, M/M, Reserve Course (Dangan Ronpa)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 10:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16156982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicpoet/pseuds/cosmicpoet
Summary: Komaeda watches the Kamukura Project; his curiosity aching to see what hope will bloom from this.





	faith/faithless

He’s heard it in whispers around places he shouldn’t be. Snippets of conversation that he’s left to piece together; Komaeda knows that he’s not supposed to know of any of this, but the inner workings of Hope’s Peak fascinate him. Anything they do can only result in a surplus of hope for the world, and that will always, unfailingly produce good. Of course, it sounds unorthodox, but then again, a school that handpicks students because of talent and bases the curriculum around furthering each specific talent can hardly be described as normal.

So, he’s already in love with the Kamukura project, whatever that is.

Withdrawing himself more and more from his classmates, Komaeda finds himself more often than not sneaking into off-limits areas after hours, rifling through documents to find anything that can tell him more about what this institution has planned. All he knows so far is that it’s something to do with the Reserve Course. And he doesn’t know how to feel about that.

The Reserve Course shouldn’t be at the forefront of hope. If Hope’s Peak want to do something spectacular, something utterly magnificent, then surely they should use the Main Course students, the ones who are talented and brimming with potential to eradicate despair from the world? Still, his unwavering faith in his school and everything it stands for pushes this anxiety aside, and he trusts - he has to trust - in what they do; what he believes in.

He is, however, jealous. And he hates himself for that. If anyone is going to bring hope to the world, they would never pick him - he’s just the Ultimate Lucky Student, something which he only considers to be a proper talent half the time. It’s not that he’s jealous of his classmates, because he only sees goodness and light in them; it’s more like he’s bitter at the opportunities that have passed him by. Everything that happens to him heralds disaster, and even happiness can never last when his life is plagued and burdened by his cycle of luck. So perhaps he _is_ jealous - not of their talent, but of their normalcy. 

Is anyone in Hope’s Peak normal? Is that why this project must fall to the Reserve Course, those pathetic, normal, hopeful wannabes?

And then, he finds it. What he’s been looking for.

It’s not a confirmation of what the Kamukura project is. It doesn’t name names, or state facts. But it is a date, a place, and a time, and that’ll get him further than any of his investigation so far. All he needs is to go there, hide himself, and watch hope bloom.

* * *

 

Today. That’s when everything will peak. Once the school closes, this Kamukura project - whatever it is - will commence in an underground basement, and the world will never be the same again. 

He can’t concentrate; even when his classmates - he does not dare call them friends, in case he oversteps boundaries and makes them uncomfortable with being friends with _him_ \- try to include him in their jokes and conversations, his mind drifts along with the wind, carrying his soul towards the Kamukura project. Outside, the petals and leaves fall to the floor and become swept up with the invisible current of the breeze, and he imagines how nice it would be to let go of everything and be taken up by some omnipotent force. That’s what hope is, at least to him. The culmination of power and greatness, combined into something wholly good.

So, when he finds himself looking upon an empty room, he feels no trepidation. Even when his eyes settle onto the surgical equipment, when the lack of light allows the waning moonlight to grace the darkness in a ghostly wind-silver, he can’t despair. He can only hope that this will be good.

He trusts in Hope’s Peak. As it should be. As it has been, forever, branching off into a boundless infinity of how wonderful the future could be under this rule.

There’s a little glass window above this room, and Komaeda makes his way there to watch whatever unfolds. It seems like this place has been designed as an observatory for the room below, and he trusts in his luck that he won’t be disturbed whilst he’s up here. There are speakers built into the walls, and they’re already turned on. 

The Kamukura project is about to start.

And he watches everything.

The first shock is when he recognises the Reserve Course student they bring in; his name is Hinata, and Komaeda has seen him around before. Usually, he’s skulking around the Main Course students, looking at them with jealousy and awe that Komaeda recognises as something that seeps into the marrow of his own bones, too. But now, he just looks…not ready. Of course, he’s walking with his head held high, not stumbling or faltering, but his eyes. God, his eyes.

They’re terrified.

Something glints behind them, like some form of natural hope that screams out to be preserved, and there’s a sinking feeling in Komaeda’s gut as he wonders whether this hope will remain after the project takes place. It’s so innocent - not world-changing hope, but something personal, something wholly _Hinata,_ and that scares him to death. The idea that Hope’s Peak could destroy this for a chance at some greater hope; and sure, that’s what he’s supposed to believe in, it’s what he _does_ believe in, but seeing the inevitability of Hinata’s hope being crushed unsettles him.

And then the project begins. 

He’ll never forget, as long as he lives (and he hopes that he won’t live for long after this), the screams that burst through the speakers in the room; but, even without the speakers, Komaeda just _knows_ that he’d hear them in the same frequency from up here. They’re eternal. They’re Hinata, whatever remains of him, trying to break free from a body that has already resigned itself to the Kamukura project. The establishment that he’s always had such faith in is a shapeless form in a surgical mask, trying to push hope out of a cut throat. And, just like that, Komaeda feels as if he sees Hinata split into two.

Is this hope?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day One of Komahina Week, which is a week I'm running with my friend Sy on twitter! The prompts for today were Hope/Despair. I hope you enjoyed this! Please comment if you did :^)
> 
> If you want to get involved with Komahina Week, you can find the twitter account [here](http://www.twitter.com/komahinaweek)!


End file.
